I once read that Oscar Wilde said that the best people don't know what job they want to do until they're 40. I was merrily going along with that until today when I discovered my perfect job: Dr Who's new assistant.
Apparently they're getting rid of that Martha (although I'm not sure why cos I think she's pretty funkay and smart, but hey, who am I to complain?) so will be needing a replacement. They should really stop looking now cos I'm right here, and will happily leave library-land and head off to the Tardis, not a problem-o my friends. Don't worry though, I won't be out of touch cos he does that special trick with the mobile phones so they can be used from outer space, and now that I'm all wireless and everything I'll be able to take my laptop with me.
So I know it'll be hard, but try not to miss me too much, cos I'll pop back every now and then, let you come in and have a cuppa and a hobnob in the Tardis (there will be a kettle and teabags in there, surely?) and just think of all the exciting tales I'll have to tell you...
Cue music, grab the Doctor's hand, run into the Tardis, so long my friends... x
2 comments:
Nah, Tardis is very dizzy-making. Sorry, my friend, but it would be bad for you. And you can't have the same shoes as The Doctor.
I, on the other hand, would be the perfect new assistant. I'm Scottish, know lots of science stuff, and have shparkly silver converse.
Cups of tea and hobnobs?! Tcha. I'll be there with Irn Bru and tequila. Slammers. Bring it on.
Maybe all three of us could be his assistants? Like Charlie's Angels but with The Doctor instead of Bosley? Lots of high kicks, karate chops and disguises added to the normal man-eating wheely bins and zombiefied scarecrows... I'm liking this idea.
you had to spoil the fantasy didn't you by injecting some reality in there? Pah! My day is ruined now. I'm off to practice more huffing
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